


The Good in Me

by Polyhexian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Family, Good ending timeline, Grief, Illness, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: No one brags about a gold medal they won by default.
Relationships: Cyclonus/Whirl (Transformers), Whirl & Whirl (Transformers)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	1. Your heart's a vine that I've bled trying to climb

"Hey, hey, come on, Cyc, check this out!" Whirl grabbed Cyclonus's empty glass from his hand where it had been sitting for the last twenty minutes and threw it into the air. Cyclonus looked up as the rotory took it out with a single well aimed shot and shards of glass rained down on their table. "Huh? How about that?"

Cyclonus blinked at him slowly and then huffed something close to dry laughter. Whirl seemed pleased by the response and drummed his claws on the table rapidly.

"You were on bridge duty today, right?" Whirl asked, still tapping, "Did you get to do anything fun?"

Cyclonus shrugged. He'd not done much but watch monitors and linger by Rodimus while he complained about Megatron for the third monologue that week. There was very little to report on. 

Whirl didn't seem satisfied by this answer though and looked around and then up, and then back at Cyclonus, still tapping arhythmically on the table. "Are you on duty again tomorrow?"

"I'm on canons," Cyclonus answered.

Whirl seemed disappointed, though Cyclonus couldn't fathom why, but he leaned forward as if to speak again before he was interrupted. 

"Stop that!" Spinister yelled from across the room, in a booth with two other Scavengers. From where he was sitting Cyclonus could see Misfire desperately trying to distract him already, but Whirl stood up and put one foot on the table.

"Stop what? _This?_ " Whirl demanded, and then began thumping his foot against the table, tapping as loudly as he could. 

Cyclonus shuffled back out of the way as the Decepticon threw himself across the room and crashed into Whirl, destroying the table they'd just been sitting at. Someone fired off an energon round from within the fist fight they were going at and Cyclonus side-stepped over to the bar. 

"Would you care to-" he began, but Swerve cut him off.

"I already called Security," he said, voice dry. "That's the second table this week, Cyc. Can't you at least _try_ to control him?"

"Control Whirl?" Cyclonus repeated, cocking an optic ridge, "I would think not." He glanced back at the helicopters who appeared to be engaged in a battle to the death on the floor. "You know I'll pay for it."

Swerve grumbled unhappily, clearly not satisfied but not willing to fight about it. Cyclonus looked up as the bar doors slid open and a red wave surged into the room. He watched as the flood of scraplets swept over the scuffling Cybertronians and then split apart, slamming each back against opposite walls. 

Whirl Jr reformed back in the center of the room, setting her hands on her hips unhappily. She was such a small thing like this, barely taller than Swerve or Rewind. Cyclonus had always assumed she had settled on such a form to try and tone down her intimidation level, but when she entered a room like that, it was an entirely moot point.

"This is the second time this week," Junior chastised, casting her attentions toward Spinister, who was slumping forward and rubbing his head, "Can you two not behave for a few _days?_ I have better things to do than break up bar fights."

"Like what?" asked Spinister.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she joked, then crossed toward him and offered him a hand up, "Are you going to walk to the brig like a big boy or are you going to make me cuff you?" 

Spinister accepted her hand and stood up, cocking his head to the side in thought for several seconds before he looked back down at her. "I can walk."

"Lovely," she responded, and turned on one heel, looking back at where Whirl was sitting in the debris left of his table. "Come on, dad. You, too."

"Aww, you're really gonna put your old man in time out?" Whirl Sr whined as he stood and dusted himself off. Junior rolled her eyes.

"Yes, and you're going to make it easy on me. I've got paperwork to get back to."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he gushed, stomping out to join her and Spinister, "My baby girl and her big grown up job. Makin' me proud."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, "Let's go sober up then, boys, shall we?"

Cyclonus watched as she led the two combatants back out the door she'd come through, and the sound of casual conversation resumed, people seemingly happy to ignore the destruction around them. 

"You know, when Rodimus made her head of security I thought she would be too _lenient_ on him," Swerve commented, idly cleaning a glass.

"She takes her job very seriously," Cyclonus murmured, "And Whirl would never ask her to compromise that. Especially not on his behalf."

"Mmhmm," Swerve hummed, and set the glass on the counter. "Gonna go down and meet 'em, then?" 

"He doesn't need me there," Cyclonus shook his head, "I'll see him when she lets him go."

"If you say so," Swerve said dubiously. 

Cyclonus took an empty seat in a different booth, one that had yet to be destroyed, and let the engex fill him with a comforting numbness until time felt warm and soft and he could only just barely remember why he was drinking in the first place. 

Eventually the hour grew late and Swerve kicked him out along with the rest of the lingering dead, and he trudged back to his and Whirl's shared habsuite in a familiar fog.

Standing outside of the door, hand hovering over the keypad, Cyclonus paused when he heard voices within.

"Why won't you just tell me?" Whirl Jr's soft voice asked, a gentle plea.

"There's nothing to tell, Whirlygirl," Whirl responded, "It's not a big deal."

"I know you're lying," she said, sounding sad, "You know I can tell when you're lying. Why don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you!" Whirl insisted, imploring, "It's not that, sweetspark. It's just- it's complicated."

"It's not complicated," she said miserably, "It's easy. Just _talk_ to me."

Cyclonus keyed the door open, no longer feeling comfortable eavesdropping. Both Whirls turned to look at him, yellow optics casting an eerie glow in the dark room. Cyclonus noted the distinct scent of purged tanks and skunked energon, but the room was clean. Whirl Jr stood up.

"Call me tomorrow, Dad, alright?" she asked, though her optics were on Cyclonus. Her expression was unreadable, like it always was when she looked at him. Cyclonus was quite certain she did not like him, though he hadn't quite decided how much yet, whether she simply found him annoying or if she had some kind of grudge for something. 

"Of course, Whirlygirl."

"Goodnight, Dad," she replied, still staring at Cyclonus with unblinking optics before she stepped past him and out into the hall. The door slid shut behind her and Cyclonus sighed.

Whirl looked up at him from where he was laying in their berth, silent for a moment before he opened up his arms and indicated for Cyclonus to join him. He did, navigating around his cockpit to set his head down against Whirl's chest, feeling the warm thrum of his spark against his armor.

Whirl was quiet for some time, until Cyclonus thought that perhaps he was asleep, before he spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"Hey, Cyc?" he asked, motionless.

Cyclonus cracked his optics open and tilted his helm up. "Yes?" A beat passed.

"...Nevermind," Whirl murmured.

Eventually, Cyclonus slipped into recharge and let the blissful darkness overtake his thoughts.

* * *

Cyclonus woke first, which was unusual. He was on duty today, but he hadn't set an alarm and he was sure he was running late. It took him a moment to process this and then to realize belatedly that Whirl was not in bed with him anymore. 

Cyclonus sat up, startled and alarmed, until he saw the door to the washracks was swung open, a sliver of light pouring out across the floor. Cyclonus tilted his head, but didn't hear the shower running. Hesitantly, he stood and took a few steps toward the door.

"Whirl?" he asked, his voice interrupting the silence.

"Huh?" Whirl's voice sounded startled, as if he'd just been woken up and Cyclonus heard a scuffle against the floor before the door opened all the way and Whirl leaned out, "Hey, you're up! Sup?"

"What are you doing?" Cyclonus inquired. Whirl looked back in the room behind him and then returned his gaze to Cyclonus. 

"Fell asleep washing my engine. You know how I am," he handwaved quickly. Cyclonus frowned. Whirl was obviously lying, but he had to trust it was for a good reason. 

"Alright," Cyclonus conceded. He wondered if he was imagining the disappointed expression on Whirl's not-face or if he was just projecting something there that wasn't. He'd done that before. Cyclonus had always found Whirl a difficult puzzle to read. "I'm late for duty. Are we meeting tonight?" 

"Oh, right, um," Whirl glanced behind him again, "Yeah, yeah, Swerve's, usual place and everything. I'll see you tonight, Cyc."

"See you tonight, Whirl," Cyclonus nodded, before he turned and left him to whatever he was doing. 

"Wait," Whirl said, and Cyclonus stopped in the threshold of the doorway and looked back at him curiously. 

"Yes?" he asked.

Whirl hesitated, optic tracking like he was searching for something and not finding it. "I-" He paused again. "I wanted to say-" He stopped again, and Cyclonus cocked his head at him. Whirl's shoulders sagged and he glanced away. "Have a nice day, Cyc," he mumbled, finally. 

Cyclonus blinked at him. "Thank you," he said, "You, too." 

The door shut behind him.

* * *

Cyclonus found it strange that Whirl was not waiting for him when he arrived at the bar after his shift. He hadn't been working today, so he didn't have any scheduling conflicts, and it was unlike him not to be waiting for Cyclonus whenever they were supposed to meet. He assumed Whirl must simply have found himself busy at the moment and he would be along shortly.

He took a seat in the dimmest and least occupied corner and let the fuzzy din of the bar turn into static in his periphery consciousness, nursing a mug of triple filtered engex and staring into the middle distance. 

This hadn't been the life he'd imagined himself living. Not at any point. There'd been a point where he had anticipated dying- back in Vector Sigma and a dozen times since, but the idea of simply… _existing_ seemed strange and antithetical to his nature. At the same time, he couldn't seem to muster up the energy to care about much these days. They were in a new universe and he would likely never see Cybertron again- but at the same time, he wouldn't have even if they'd stayed. Not really, anyway, his Cybertron was long gone, the new one just an echo of his home. Eerie and off-putting. 

He liked these people, his crewmates on the Lost Light, he really did, but at the same time, knowing he would see the same people every day, unchanging… his world seemed to have grown so very small somehow, and here he was, making it smaller.

Before he realized it, an hour had passed, and Whirl still hadn't joined him.

Cyclonus frowned and glanced at his emptied drink, wondering where the time had gone, and then activated his comm. Whirl did not answer, but that wasn't particularly unusual either. He changed tactics.

"Security," answered Whirl Jr's soft voice, "What do you need?"

"It's me," Cyclonus responded, "Have you seen your father?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "He's with me. Why?"

"He was supposed to meet me an hour ago."

"Guess he forgot," she answered curtly.

Cyclonus frowned. "Well. Alright, then, I won't interrupt. Tell him I'll see him when he gets home."

"Sure. Bye." 

The line clicked off.

Whirl's daughter had never liked him. He hadn't really met her until after she'd killed Getaway, which was enough to solidly endear herself to virtually everyone on board, but at that point he'd barely been present in any meaningful fashion. Time had been moving around him in a steady sludge that he had no interest in keeping his head above, and by the time he started paying attention, she had designed herself a Cybertronian mode and had taken to walking around in it.

It seemed to Cyclonus that Whirl Jr liked and was liked by everyone but him. Once she'd taken over as head of security, shipwide violence had taken a nosedive. It seemed no one was foolish enough to put up a struggle against a sentient swarm of scraplets and chose to simply make nice with her instead. Yet, still, for all her witty banter and cheery smiles, all she ever had waiting for _him_ was bitter glares and open resentment. He really wasn't certain what he'd done to offend her so, but he was used to not bring liked. She was certainly not alone in that, anyway.

Whirl was not home yet when he returned and Cyclonus strongly considered simply turning around and trying to convince Swerve to linger a little longer, but he knew it from experience to be a fruitless endeavor. The door shut behind him and plunged him into darkness, alone with himself and his bed and his thoughts. 

The room felt twenty degrees cooler, somehow, and he couldn't help but fold in on himself and face the wall, the hum of the engines shivering up his spinal strut like war drums. He wondered if, and then he hoped that, not for the first time, he would not wake from recharge this time.

He did, however, wake, sometime later, when he heard the _swish_ of the door slide open. Cyclonus onlined his optics, pushing himself up. 

Whirl stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light. He was uncharacteristically silent, motionless. 

"You're back," Cyclonus stated, after a few seconds, breaking the silence.

"I'm back," Whirl repeated. His voice was strangely hoarse. "Are you good?" 

"I'm fine," Cyclonus lied, like he always did. 

"Good, good," Whirl mumbled, and stepped inside, letting the door shut behind him. He unloaded his weaponry in the dark, dropping a clip onto the desk, his back turned to Cyclonus. He leaned forward against it, weary in a way that Whirl never was. 

"Are you alright?" Cyclonus inquired.

Whirl's shoulders sunk like a great weight was on them, but he didn't turn around. "...Yeah," he said eventually, "I'm good."

"Are you?" Cyclonus pressed, sitting up.

"What would you do," Whirl asked, voice laced with static, "If I was gone?" 

Cyclonus felt something akin to an electric shock go through him. "What?"

"What would you have _done_ ," he continued, "If- if after we left Mederi, if _Tailgate_ hadn't-"

Cyclonus took a sharp invent, his plating flaring and then snapping shut without his instruction or permission and Whirl looked up in alarm. Cyclonus covered his face and shook his head, struggling to regain his composure. 

When he looked up again Whirl had joined him in bed and tugged him flush against his frame, claws around his back. Cyclonus felt his vents reopen slowly and his fans wind back down, and scrunched his optics shut again. 

"Nevermind," Whirl said under his breath, "Forget I mentioned it."

Cyclonus didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. He clutched at Whirl's plating and pressed his face against the crook of his shoulder, counting the beat of his spark beneath his cockpit, syncing up with his own, until darkness took him again.


	2. Like a knife in the woods

Cyclonus woke again when Whirl pulled himself away, leaned over the side of the berth and purged on the floor. 

"Primus," Cyclonus swore in alarm, sitting up, "Are you alright?"

Whirl coughed, engine sputtering and frame trembling. "Y- yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you certain?" Cyclonus said dubiously.

"Yeah, yeah, it's- it's nothing," Whirl insisted, standing shakily to his pedes, "I'll clean it up."

"That's not normal, Whirl," Cyclonus frowned, "Are you sick?"

Whirl hesitated, turning back toward him, optic dilating open and closed again. "Maybe. Could be." 

"Would you go see Ratchet?" Cyclonus asked, "Better to be safe than sorry." 

Whirl watched him another moment longer, before he nodded. "Yeah. Better safe than sorry. Right." He turned away to grab a towel from the washracks. "I'll go do that. Go back to sleep, Cyc." 

"Are you sure? I can come with you."

"I'm sure," Whirl said firmly. "I'll be fine."

Cyclonus could tell he was lying, but lying and Whirl were as inseperable as carbon and iron from steel. Once he'd started a lie he wasn't going to budge on it, and it was his business anyway. Cyclonus didn't have any right to pry.

"Alright," he said, eventually.

* * *

Cyclonus spent the day in his and Whirl's dim habsuite, optics locked on distant star beyond the window. Without Whirl or rotation duty to drag him outside and force him to interact with the world, he couldn't think of any reason to leave the solitude he'd resigned himself to.

The darkness sat on his shoulders and whispered reminders of all the things he'd done wrong and asked why he was still here, why he continued to wake each day. It wondered why he prolonged the inevitable, gluttonously siphoning off of what little empathy Whirl had for him now that he had drained it from everyone else. It was only a matter of time before even Whirl's pity would run dry.

His chronometer let him know the hour was growing late and Whirl had yet to return. Cyclonus frowned, and gave him a call that went unanswered, as usual. He wondered why he bothered. 

"Medibay," Spinister answered him over his comm and Cyclonus swore internally. Of course he was working today, he'd just gotten in a fight recently and Junior _always_ gave him medibay duty when he was in trouble.

"Is Whirl there?" Cyclonus asked.

"Oh, yeah," Spinister answered, and then paused. "Wait. No."

"No?" Cyclonus repeated.

"Hang on," Spinister said, and yelled away from the receiver, "Whirl! Are you here?!" This was followed by some muffled yelling too garbled to interpret. "I'm sorry, sir, there's no one by that name here."

"What?" Cyclonus balked in confusion. 

"I don't work here," Spinister finished, and then hung up.

Cyclonus stared forward for a moment, trying to parse that conversation, before he rose to his feet and left his room to make his way down to investigate in person.

He was only somewhat surprised to find himself face to face with Junior when the medibay doors slid open.

"Hello, little one," he said as pleasantly as he could, "Is your father here?"

"No," she answered. Cyclonus raised a dubious optic ridge at her.

"Oh, just let him in!" Whirl wheezed in the distance, and Junior gave Cyclonus a bitter look before she stepped aside and let him enter. 

Whirl was sitting up in a medical berth, hooked into monitors and diagnostic machinery while First Aid fretted over the readouts. Cyclonus hadn't expected anything so severe and felt immediately guilty he had not accompanied him earlier.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hesitating near the foot of the berth, "Are you alright?" 

Whirl shrugged. "Just a bug."

"Is it contagious? Should I be tested?"

Whirl chuckled, a little darkly, like he was laughing at something Cyclonus didn't understand. "Nah," he answered, "I don't think so."

In the corner of his vision Cyclonus saw Junior grit her dentae and glance away, clearly upset. He knew that he was being left out, but not why. 

"How bad is it?" Cyclonus pressed, "Will you recover soon?"

"Maybe," Whirl said vaguely, "You don't gotta worry about it. I got the best in the biz lookin' out for me, eh, fanboy?" Whirl jabbed First Aid in the side with his elbow.

"Ow!" First Aid snapped, and then glanced at Cyclonus, "I'm working on it."

"...Is there anything I can do to help?" he tried instead.

Cyclonus did not know the words with which to describe Whirl's expression. Faceless, it read in his body, his movement, the way his optic dimmed and his shoulders sank. Something beyond resignation. 

"No," Whirl replied, voice hoarse and sick, "There's nothing you can do."

"No, not unless you wanted to-" Whirl Jr began with a snarl.

"Whirl!" the rotory snapped, cutting her off, "Don't."

She stared at him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them before she hissed a curse under her breath and turned on one pede, stomping out of the medical bay. 

"What was that all about?" Cyclonus asked, baffled.

"It ain't nothin'," Whirl dismissed, "I got it under control."

Cyclonus stared at him, and Whirl averted his gaze. "Whirl," he said softly, "What are you hiding from me?"

Whirl shook his head, still looking away. "Nothin' you need to know about. Just go home, Cyc."

"I don't want to go home," Cyclonus insisted, "I want to help you."

"You can't help me," Whirl whispered, "I'd rather you go."

Cyclonus felt stricken. He didn't know what was happening or why. He'd always known that eventually Whirl would tire of him, but he didn't know what had finally broken the camel's back. 

"That's what you want?" he asked, wings sinking. 

"Yeah," Whirl lied.

Cyclonus set his jaw. "You don't. You don't want me to go. Why are you lying? What's going on?"

"Whirl, maybe you _should-_ " First Aid started.

"No!" Whirl snapped. First Aid raised both his palms in a sign of surrender, and then glanced back at Cyclonus, before backing away and grabbing Spinister by the collar plating before they stepped out of the room and into his office.

They were alone.

"Whirl, please," Cyclonus said, "Let me help you."

"Do you love me?" Whirl asked, his voice breaking as he looked up to meet Cyclonus's optics.

Cyclonus didn't know how to respond at first. The question took him completely off guard, like the floor had gone out from under him. "What?"

"It's a yes or no question," Whirl insisted, "Do you love me?"

"...I…" Cyclonus said, and immediately trailed off. He didn't know. The _L word_ was wrapped too deeply in memory to even think about it, let alone say it. He hadn't said it since-

"Yeah," Whirl rasped, barely a whisper, glancing away toward the floor, "I figured."

"Whirl, I don't mean that I-"

"Stop," Whirl said, voice trembling, "I don't want to hear it. I'm not mad. I know how things are. I know what I signed up for. Just let me deal with this on my own."

"But-"

"I don't ever ask you for nothin," Whirl murmured, "Can't you please just _go_?"

Cyclonus hesitated, uncertain, trapped between decisions, of what would be crueler.

"I'm sorry, Whirl," he said, taking a step back, before he turned to leave. 

"Yeah," Whirl said quietly as the door shut behind him, "I know."

Cyclonus found himself alone in the hallway, his thoughts spinning wildly, a chaotic soup of anxiety and unconfronted grief and feelings he didn't even have words for. He felt like his whole world was unravelling all over again. He stumbled forward, the thought of the fuzzy numbness of engex on his mind, but he stopped barely two hallways into the trip to lean against the wall and flare his vents, trying to cool down his overheating core.

"I hate you," stated a feminine voice behind him, tone indicative of barely restrained fury.

Cyclonus tilted his head away to look backward down the dark hallway. At the other end of it, Whirl Jr stood with her hands at her sides, bright yellow optics glowing in the shadows. 

"I know," he told her.

"I've always hated you," she continued, "From the moment I met you, I knew what you were."

"And what am I?" he demanded, leaning away from the wall and turning to face her, "What is it about me that you find so repulsive?" 

"You're a parasite," she told him.

"Interesting, coming from you," he spat back. 

"I'm not a parasite," she replied, lowering her head, her tone dangerous, "I'm a _predator._ "

"Hunt me, then," he scowled, and she laughed, like tinkling bells.

"Ten years now," she said, "Ten years you've relied on him for _everything._ You take and you take and you take and you give _nothing_ back."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" 

"We'll have this argument later _,_ " Cyclonus snapped, "I cannot _talk_ about this right now, and certainly not to _you._ "

"You _have_ to talk about it _right now!_ " Whirl Jr yelled, "There isn't going to be a _later!_ "

Cyclonus frowned. "What does that mean?"

"You want to know?" Junior clenched her hands into fists. "He doesn't want you to know. He says it will only upset you, that you live on the edge of a complete breakdown at all times and he's worked too hard to push you over now."

"That's-"

"He's going to die," she snarled, "He's going to die and it's _your fault._ "

Cyclonus froze. "Die?"

" _Die,_ " she repeated, "Yeah, turns out _unrequited love_ is really bad for your spark." She touched her chest where her spark might have been. "All those feelings, burning up inside without an outlet? You start burning out parts. Energon gets skunked before it even leaves your fuel tank. Everything just gets too hot, too overworked, and then, when your spark burns so hot that it's consuming more fuel than you can give it, you just _die._ " 

"Unrequited…" Cyclonus murmured.

" _Hanahaki,_ Aid said it was called. Pretty rare disease, apparently. Rare enough they don't know how to fix it, other than to eliminate the catalyst- all those _unrequited feelings_." She clenched her hand into a fist. "Which means there's no hope, because even though you two have been in a relationship for ten years, from day one, he has _known_ you _have_ never and _will_ never love him like he loves you." Her rotors spun on her back, barely restrained anger bursting out as uncontrollable energy. "You don't love him, but you won't leave him, either." 

"That's…" Cyclonus breathed, "I don't…"

"You don't do _anything!_ " she yelled, "you can't take responsibility for anything you've done, you never even _try!_ "

"I- I need to think," Cyclonus stammered, whipping around, floor spinning beneath him, "I need to be alone-"

"Is that what you need?" she snapped, "Don't walk away from me, Cyclonus!" Cyclonus ignored her, briskly walking away, trying to escape, thoughts of his dark habsuite on his mind. "Stop!" He didn't.

" _Cyclonus!_ "

Cyclonus froze. That hadn't been Whirl Jr's voice. It was a voice he knew. A voice he had not heard in many years. 

"Of course that stopped you." The anger in it was so painfully familiar, reminiscent of the last time he had heard it, being told not to stay but to go, "It's the only thing that could, isn't it?"

"Don't you dare," Cyclonus whispered, without turning.

"Why not? Are you so afraid to face the truth?" Cyclonus felt his frame begin to shake. "It's your fault I'm dead, Cyc."

Cyclonus spun around. Tailgate stood at the end of the hall, his visor wide and bright with hurt.

"How dare you wear him like a _costume_ " Cyclonus snarled, but Junior tilted her head up in her skinsuit and scoffed.

"Dad told me all about you. He was nice to you when no one else was and all you ever were was mean to him," she pointed at him accusingly, "He needed you and again and again you weren't there for him. You let him pine and suffer waiting for you to come to terms with your emotional incompetence and he _died_ waiting."

"Stop talking!" Cyclonus roared, "You are playing with fire, child, and if you do not cease, I will-"

"You'll what? Kill me, too?" She shifted her weight, opening up her arms in invitation, "I'd like to see you try."

"It was not- I did _not-_ " Cyclonus choked out, despising the weakness in his voice. Whirl Jr scoffed, visor glittering, before she shifted her posture and changed her tone.

"Why didn't you save me, Cyclonus?" Tailgate's voice asked him, sounding so hurt and broken for a moment that he almost forgot who was really speaking, "Didn't you ever care about me?"

Without even thinking Cyclonus drew his sword and pointed it at her. "Stop."

Tailgate's visor glittered and the visage shifted, warping back into little Whirl Jr. "Oh, so you _do_ care? Too bad it's too little too late." 

Cyclonus did not lower his blade. "You have overstepped. You're done."

"I'm done? _I'm_ done?" she repeated, her face going blank. She stood up straight. "Do you remember when I was little, and I _begged_ you to teach me how to use a sword? Dad told me all kinds of stories about how amazing you were with it. I looked up to you." She flattened her hand against her armour where it touched her chest, before snapping her arm out to her side, a blade materializing in her clenched fist. "Uncle Drift taught me. _You're_ done."

"You don't want to do this," Cyclonus warned her, lowering his gaze over his blade.

"No," she whispered, "I really, _really_ want to do this."


	3. Try to survive, keep my spirit alive

Whirl struck first.

Cyclonus slid back, blocking an overhead smash as she leapt into the air and brought her sword down with a startling strength. The shriek of metal as their blades collided echoed through the hall and through his struts, metal memory carrying him through the motions. He pushed back and she slid away, drawing her sword up again before she sliced sideways, grazing his midsection as he spun out of range.

He stumbled away, position defensive, plating flared, panting. Junior held back, narrowed optics tracking him with intrigue.

"You're out of practice," she observed. 

"I am," he confirmed. It had been a very long time since he had drawn his Great Sword. "Drift taught you well."

"You certainly weren't going to," she replied.

"I don't even know why you wanted to learn," he said, shifting his posture to reset his footwork, "What do you need a weapon for when you _are_ a weapon?"

Her optics flared and she yelled at him, wordless and furious before she lunged forward again, jabbing when he expected her to slash and her sword sunk into his shoulder, fist deep.

Her hands shook where they gripped the handle, her optics welling with tears. "I didn't just want to _learn_ ," she hissed, "I wanted _you_ to _teach_ me."

"Why _me?_ " Cyclonus grunted, grabbing the blade with one hand where it met his armour, "You're nothing to me."

Her optics flared again and she yanked her sword back out, energon flowing from the fresh wound and wound back to strike again. Cyclonus shifted back into defense, blocking one slash, and then two, three, four, moving rapidly as she fell into her blows with unrelenting fury. 

"I know!" she yelled, "Everyone knows! _I'm_ nothing to you, _Dad's_ nothing to you, _Tailgate_ was nothing to you-"

"Stop!" Cyclonus snarled in return, grabbing the handle of his sword in both hands and smashing back aggressively. She had to dodge to the side and bring her blade up to block and only barely managed it, feet sliding back against the floor from the force of it. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Why don't you _want_ me!" she screamed back at him, slashing hard enough the tip of her blade sliced through his abdomen, but he ignored it, cutting back, "I looked up to you! I did _everything_ I could _think of_ to get you to like me and you wouldn't even _look_ at me!" Her sword glanced off his parry and dragged through his wing. "You've _never_ looked at me, never seen me, never cared about me no matter _what_ I did!"

"Why do you care so much!?" Cyclonus demanded, "Why does it have to be _me?_ "

"Why did you leave Tailgate behind, huh?!" she yelled, furious tears in her optics, "You left him there to die!"

He struck again, hard, and sent her skidding back, sword held over her head to block. "Be silent!"

"Go ahead! Tell me to shut up! Push me away like you did my Dad, push us all away and leave us behind to die so you can stare out the window and mope about how sad _your_ life is!"

Something hot flared in Cyclonus, furious and uncontrollable. He brought his sword down again, harder, faster, pushing her back. Now _she_ was the one in the defensive position, trying desperately to block or parry and struggling to keep up. 

"You break everything you touch!" she screamed, "I won't let you break him like you did Tailgate!" 

"I told you to _stop_ !"Cyclonus roared at her, voice frenzied with panicked anger, and he smashed their swords together so hard that she stumbled back, arms wide to steady herself, leaving her wide open. He surged forward with a jab, the memory of finishing a thousand fights pushing him into the strike like it was as easy as flying.

He stood frozen, both fists gripped around the handle of his sword, blade run through the center of little Whirl's chest where her spark might have rested. She stared straight forward, up over his head, optics wide in surprise. Cyclonus took a deep, shuddering intake as horror dawned over him.

"Wait," he whispered, "No, wait."

"You stabbed me," she stated, her voice small.

"No, no, no," he gasped, realizing too late what he had done, and let go of the sword as if it had burned him, "Hang on, I'll call Ratchet-"

She dropped her blade and let it fizzle out of existence, looking down at where his sword jutted out of her chest. "You _stabbed_ me," she repeated, before she grabbed the handle and pulled it free. Her body reformed immediately, as if nothing had happened at all.

"Oh," he said, "You're alright."

"Of course I'm alright," she muttered, looking sadly at the sword in her hand, "I'm not like you. I never was." She looked away and tossed him back his sword. "You couldn't kill me if you tried. I just didn't think you'd try."

Cyclonus halfheartedly caught his sword and let it hang at his side, feeling guilt well up in his spark. "Whirl…"

She stared at the floor, shoulders sunk and optics wet, expression tired beyond her years. "I talked to Chromedome, earlier. He said that sometimes you can fix Hanahaki before burnout with mnemosurgery- you know, erase all the memories of the person they're so upset about. But he also said he wouldn't ever operate on anyone without their permission again, and Dad wouldn't budge." She hugged her arms across her chest. "I thought maybe he would if you were gone. But you put a sword through my chest and even that didn't make me angry enough to eat you. It just made me sad." 

She seemed smaller, suddenly, even more so than usual, not the capable adult who could level an army of the fancy struck her but a frightened little girl. Cyclonus replaced his sword in his back and took a step forward, and then two, and then dropped to one knee before her, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She sniffled. "Why didn't you want me?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking up.

"You're the most important person in my dad's life!" she exclaimed, "And you always hated me!"

"I never hated you!"

"You _acted_ like it!" She rubbed at her eyes and tightened her grip around her chest. "You ignored me, you brushed me off, you wouldn't look at me- I only ever wanted you to like me and you barely acknowledged I existed at all."

Cyclonus grimaced, tanks roiling in guilt. "I… took little interest in anyone for some time, unfortunately. It was not meant to be directed at you specifically."

"Not dad," she replied, "You didn't ignore dad."

"No," he affirmed, "I suppose I didn't."

"I don't want him to die," she said, her voice breaking as he shoulders gave a tremble, "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything," he said gently, "It is not your responsibility. Sometimes things happen and there is nothing you can do. It is not your fault."

“It doesn’t have to be my fault!” Whirl hiccupped, no longer able to stop the tears from flowing down her faceplate, “It’s happening and I can’t do anything about it!”

Cyclonus was not used to seeing Junior vulnerable. Even as a child, she kept a smile on her face and a chipper tone to her voice no matter what situation she was in, and for a time he’d thought she really was that optimistic- but he suspected now that she was just very brave, and very self conscious. The way she tightened her fists around her arms and held herself broke his spark and made him want to reach out and hold her, to protect this little girl from the dark things in the world, but he feared he’d done too much now to have the right. Even still, he reached for her, hesitating with his hands floating between them, but the moment his claws brushed over her arms she fell into his embrace and let herself be held, wet face shoved into his shoulder.

“It will be alright, little one,” he murmured, a hand on the back of her head, “I’ll speak to him.”

“You’ll just make it worse,” she sniffled.

“No,” Cyclonus said firmly, “It will be alright.”

“I’m sorry I turned into him,” Whirl whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Cyclonus murmured, “It was I that wronged you. You did what you had to. I have been… unfair. I’m sorry.”

Whirl didn’t respond, face buried in his chest as she cried herself out. Cyclonus pet her back in the dim hallway and dwelled on the moments he should have done better and didn’t, and resolved that it was time to start trying again.


	4. All of your good is mine

The medibay doors split open and Cyclonus stepped inside, chin up. The sound of his pedes echoed against the sloping walls and Whirl's somber optic turned toward him, bulb dimly lit. 

"You're going to accept Chromedome's help," Cyclonus said firmly, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. 

Spinister grabbed First Aid and yanked him back into his office, leaving them alone again. Whirl blinked, and then reared back. "What?"

Cyclonus stepped forward. "Chromedome's help with the Hanahaki. You're going to take it."

"Wh- did she tell you?" Whirl snapped, sitting up, "Dammit, I _told_ her not t-"

"Whirl," Cyclonus said, refusing to let the tremble creep into his voice, "She is right, and you are being irrational. You will stop."

Whirl's shoulders sunk, vents cycling with an off-putting whirr. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Cyc."

Cyclonus grit his dentae. "What is the point of refusing this? What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"That's not the point!" Whirl snapped, "It's my decision and you don't get to tell me what to do!"

"You will _die!_ " Cyclonus snarled, stepping forward and grabbing Whirl's face by the prongs, as if he could force him to look at reason and see it, "Is that what you _want?_ "

"So what if I do?!" Whirl demanded, glaring back at him defiantly, "Since when do you care what I want?!"

Cyclonus tore his hand away as if burned. "What?"

Whirl stubbornly didn't answer, turning his head away. 

"Whirl…" Cyclonus said, one hand still floating between them uncertainly. 

"I'm tired," Whirl said eventually, voice hoarse, "And that's too much." 

Cyclonus's hand twitched, clawed fingers grasping loosely at empty air. The silence stretched long. 

"Whatever you may want," Cyclonus said slowly, "I don't want you to die, Whirl."

Whirl's claws gripped his arms, pinching tightly. "I wonder, sometimes."

Cyclonus shivered, a full body thing that went through him like a cold wave, ice in his lines and frost in his vents. He wondered, sometimes. 

Cyclonus sat down on the berth beside him and gently pulled his claws away, folding them into his own. "I have taken advantage of you," he said quietly, fuel tank roiling with guilt, "I'm sorry."

"Like hell you did," Whirl snapped, "I do whatever I want and I don't do nothin' I don't wanna do."

"I have been selfish," Cyclonus continued unabated, "And I have been unfair. You have done much for me and I have not returned that kindness." He paused. "I can not let you suffer a moment longer on my account."

"The guilt eating at you, then?" Whirl mumbled wearily, as if the fight had bled out of him, "I ain't a charity case. I don't want your guilt. I done what I done and I knew what I was doin'."

"There is guilt in me, yes," Cyclonus nodded, "But you are worth more than that. I need you, but not in the way you believe. I need _you_ , not just your support."

Whirl turned and looked up at him, dim optic wide and vulnerable like Whirl never was. "You need me?" 

"I need you," Cyclonus repeated. "You asked-" He hesitated. "You asked what I would have done, if Tailgate had not…" Cyclonus tightened his hands' grip. "In truth, I do not, can not know. Tailgate died."

"Yeah," said Whirl.

"I know you miss him, too."

"Yeah," said Whirl again, his voice cracking as he tightened his claws. 

"It's so much easier to block out the world," Cyclonus murmured, "To not feel the pain, and in turn, feel nothing else, either." He stared down at where their claws touched. "But to leave you to mourn alone is not… right. Not honourable. I've let you make too many sacrifices for me. Please, Whirl," he looked up, meeting is optic, "Please. Let me help you this time."

He felt Whirl tremble, a full frame rattle like he might crumble to pieces at any moment.

"I don't want to forget," Whirl told him, and then, in a voice that suggested this was the far more difficult admission, "But I don't want to die, either."

"I want you to know-" Cyclonus stopped and cycled a vent, an ache in his spark that never went away flaring and sparking in his chest, "I want you to know you are _loved_ , that what you have given is returned, that I am here, that I am with you. I have failed this far to convince you thusly, but- but I will do better, Whirl." 

Cyclonus pitched forward as Whirl let go of his hands and grabbed him, pulling him in flush against his body, arms around his back and helm buried in his shoulder. 

"That's all I ever wanted," Whirl said, so quietly Cyclonus wasn't even sure he was meant to hear him, "That's it."

"I love you," Cyclonus repeated, holding him tightly enough he felt his claws dig into his back, "I do. Don't go, Whirl."

"Okay," Whirl sniffled, "I don't think I need Chromedome's help, after all."

Cyclonus felt his insides swim, warm and soft and laced with guilt. "Okay," he told him.

* * *

"Hey, hey, come on, Cyc, check this out!" Whirl grabbed Cyclonus's empty glass from his hands as soon as he finished drinking it and threw it into the air. Cyclonus looked up as the rotory took it out with a single well aimed shot and shards of glass rained down on their table. "Huh? How about that?"

"An excellent shot as always," Cyclonus smiled, "Swerve will be livid."

"Whirl!" Swerve yelled across the room, "Stop blowing up all my glassware!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Whirl hollered back at him as glass tinkled down his frame.

"Put it on my tab!" Cyclonus added. Swerve huffed and returned to what he was doing. 

"Bah," Whirl snorted, and reached for his own half-finished drink, before he jolted in a way that Cyclonus was always on alert for, and the vigilant swordsmech grabbed the bucket he'd left at the end of the table and got it in front of him just in time for him to purge his tanks out into it.

"Whirl," Cyclonus said warningly, "Did you take your medication this morning?" 

Whirl made a noncommittal noise, waving one claw vaguely and wiping his intake with the other. Cyclonus shook his head and opened a commline. 

"Security," Whirl Jr.'s professional young voice answered promptly, "Please state the nature of your emergency." 

"Your father is being himself again," Cyclonus chuckled, "He's forgotten his medication."

"Oh, dad, come on!" Junior huffed, "Are you at Swerve's?"

"We are," Cyclonus confirmed, while Whirl groaned and made a gagging motion at him.

"I'll be right there. Give him a bonk on the head for me, Cyclonus, will you?" 

"Yes, ma'am," he dutifully agreed. The line cut out and he leaned forward to gently bop Whirl on the top of his helm. "That's from Junior."

"Ughhh," Whirl groaned, kicking his legs under the table like a spoiled child, "It tastes gross!" 

"It keeps you from dying, dear," Cyclonus reminded him.

Whirl flopped onto the table, folding his arms. Cyclonus imagined him pouting. "I'm getting better. I won't even need it that much longer."

"You will not," Cyclonus agreed with a nod, "But not yet. So you have to take it."

"Hey, Swerve, get this lug another drink!" Whirl yelled, "He's still tryin' to baby me, he ain't drunk enough yet!"

"Stop yelling!" Spinister yelled from a booth on the other side of the room. Misfire was frantically trying and failing to cover his mouth, which Spinister did not seem to acknowledge. 

"I like yelling!" Whirl replied, at max volume. 

"I don't!" 

"I don't like _you!_ "

"Well I don't like you either!" 

"Purple is a stupid colour!!"

Cyclonus lifted his hands off the table moments before Whirl picked it up and heaved it across the room toward the other helicopter. He watched in placid amusement as Misfire yelped and ducked, Grimlock caught the table midair, and Spinister smashed into Whirl in the middle of the floor. The room erupted in whistles and applause.

Sitting at the bar nearby, Drift turned around and glanced over at Cyclonus with a wry, pointy grin.

"Ten thousand on Spinister," he said casually, sipping his engex. Cyclonus snorted at the challenge.

"I'm sorry, _how_ much?" Rodimus balked.

"Ten thousand on Whirl," Cyclonus replied calmly. 

The rotors grappled on the floor until Whirl headbutt Spinister hard enough to daze him and give him an opening to try and pin him, even as Spinister went to knee him in the cockpit. Behind them, the door opened and Whirl Jr. Walked in, her expression going from pleasant to annoyed in an instant.

"Hey!" she snapped, "What is _wrong_ with you two?!" She lost her shape and rolled over the scufflers in a wave, reforming to hold them both upside down by their ankles. "Come on, seriously? Why do you guys hate each other so much, anyway?"

"I don't hate him," Spinister said, looking confused by the question, "Whirl is my best friend."

"Haha, yeah," Whirl added, before spitting out energon and laughing. Whirl Jr. sighed dramatically and dropped the both of them before she dragged Whirl to his feet and thrust a cube into his claws.

" _You:_ take this," she turned to Spinister, " _You:_ get up. _Both of you:_ to the brig."

"Yes, ma'am," the two said in tandem. Whirl Jr. shook her head and then glanced back at Cyclonus. 

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" he assured her, standing up. He turned to Drift. "You can wire that to me at your earliest convenience."

"She broke it up," Drift said, pointing, "Neither of us won."

"I disagree," Cyclonus smiled politely, "I put my money on Whirl. Whirl clearly won the fight, didn't she?"

Drift chuckled low in his chest and rolled his optics. "You really are a monster. Fair enough."

"Fair en- are you serious, Drift?" Rodimus stammered, "Ten _thousand?_ "

Cyclonus turned to follow the helicopters out of the room and to the brig to keep Whirl company until he sobered up enough she would let him take him home.

"You could have warned me," she told him as he fell in beside her.

"It didn't occur to me you would require such warning," he said coolly, "You had it under control."

"Yes, yes I did," she huffed, crossing her arms proudly.

"My little babygirl is so tough," Whirl gushed, picking her up wholesale to squeeze her around the middle in an overzealous bearhug she allowed with a roll of her optics and a fond smile, "God, she could kill every single one of us if she wanted. I'm so proud."

"Me too," added Spinister.

"Thank you, Spinister," Whirl Jr. said wryly.

"As am I," Cyclonus added after a moment. She looked over at him, expression unreadable at first before she softened and smiled.

"Thank you, Cyclonus."


End file.
